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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27534049">Everybody Gets High</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaekkunsenpai/pseuds/yaekkunsenpai'>yaekkunsenpai</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ephemeral (Short Fics) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kenma is implied to be Kuroo’s lover, KuroKen isn’t mentioned but implied, Kuroo Tetsurou-centric, Mentions of drugs and alcohol, Other, Songfic, Suicide</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 07:02:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>860</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27534049</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaekkunsenpai/pseuds/yaekkunsenpai</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A short tale of an alcoholic dropout, Kuroo Tetsurou. </p>
<p> <br/>(I recommend that you don’t read it because it includes topics that can trigger some people, but if you decide to, the trigger warnings are in the tags and notes)<br/>(A link to the song used &gt; <a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/3K8yZZuMPhzQaVi9dzD3wV">Everybody gets high-MISSIO</a>)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ephemeral (Short Fics) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120409</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>5iits collection</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Everybody Gets High</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this to distract myself, and i deemed it decent enough, (the story telling), to post. </p>
<p>TW//self harm, drug abuse, panic attacks, alcoholism, suicide, homophobia, none of these are described in great detail but it’s good to give a heads up</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There lived a boy, Kuroo Tetsurou, who wondered the streets in search for something. He’d walked the streets, stumbling and tumbling, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He left a trail of droplets, making adults look at him in disgust. When he’d sleep with the other runaways under the old, concrete bridges, he’d tell them a story. Sitting on tires and boxes, they’d all settle in for the little story he’d giggle out before passing out on a cardboard box.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Once upon a time, in a land far away. There lived a boy and he drank all day. Friends called him stupid and his brothers called him gay. Emptied all the bottles til the pain went away..”</em>
</p>
<p>The boy stumbled, falling to the ground. His bottle breaking beside his head. The others laughed and some groaned at the scattered glass. When they woke, he was gone. Almost like he was never there, nothing was left, even the scattered glass.</p>
<p>When he’d take his leave, vanishing with the wind. Taking wallets and jewelry, pawning them and trading the money for some whiskey and a couple packs of cigarettes. No one truly knew how old he was, but his ID said 23. During the day, he was known to those who glanced at him, as the drunken dropout. During the night, was when he had the most fun. Spending nights at hotels and parks with older men, trading bottles of pills and cases of beer. The boy’s favorite kind of drugs, were the ones that made him hallucinate. He would see giant dicks and some characters out of the hentai he stole. He could sit there for hours and just watch, as the real world disappears and his own fabricated reality moved in around him.</p>
<p>He enjoyed walking the parks when he was sober. Walking past the whispering trees and flowers, making the urge to pull his nails out tempting. When he’d realize sober wasn’t for him. He’d rush past the busy people on the streets, a pale ghost rushing to get to the store. The whispering voices following him, screaming at him, <em>running after him like they weren’t in his head</em>. Afterwards, he’d rush and rush to get to the little lake by his childhood home, two bottles of whiskey and a pack squeezed in his hands. The tiny, pale, weak boy would never amount to anything except for his exceptional drinking.</p>
<p>When he got homesick, the boy curled in a ball. His hands squeezing his head as he sobbed. Remembering his family brought him great pain, the thought of such monsters were awful.</p>
<p>
  <em>The memories of the pain when his father would throw him down. The feeling of being dumped into icy water when he woke. The piercing eyes of his mother as she smacked him. The fear of being killed everyday. The names he’d be called everyday in school or the amount of pushing, hitting, and kicks he received until he finally dropped out. His own blood turning their back on him and kicking him out. The clawing feeling of being disowned by the people you loved for years. His lover leaving him, for fear he’d get beaten too.</em>
</p>
<p>The tune he sang when this happened was repeated over and over again, until he could bring himself to get up.</p>
<p><em>“Once—upon, a ti-me..in a lan-d faraway. There lived, a li-tt-le boy and he..cried—all d-ay. P-Playboy magaz-ines, would never...g-et him laid.. He downed another—bottle, til the pain, went a-way..” </em>The little boy would choke out, breathless and desperate for a distraction. ..When he finally came to, he’d down a Vicodin.</p>
<p>This process was repeated over and over, and over for years. Until, the boy had enough. The only thing the drugs and alcohol did was numb the pain for a little. Before it came back full force. The shaking urge to pinch, bite, cut, hit himself was becoming overwhelming.</p>
<p>One night, as he stumbled through dead patches of grass and wood. He couldn’t remember what happened, except for it might’ve been a forest fire. The weak boy’s phone was cracked and unfixable, either way, no one was gonna call him.</p>
<p>He came across a ravine, deep, narrow and jagged. Swaying at the edge, he didn’t hesitate to throw all that was in his hands down the ravine. He didn’t hear glass break until 6 seconds later. He lazily smirked, sticking a foot out. He didn’t have to hesitate, or stop and think before he leaned forward. Gravity pushing him down. Free falling, he stuck his arms out, greeting the darkness with a hug...He landed with a splat.</p>
<p>When none of the runaways or older boys saw him for months, he was declared dead by those he barely called acquaintances. The only thing he’d be remembered by, was the tune the teens made in memory of him. You could hear it as you passed by drunken, druggy dropouts. <em>“Whiskey was his friend, he didn’t have another~ Vicodin his vice, his real only lover. Smoked a pack or two, it never was a problem~ Popped a pill or two, they really made him blossom~”</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was torn between posting and not posting this for 30 minutes, but in the end, i posted it.</p>
<p>I appreciate feedback<br/>thank you &lt;3</p>
<p>If anyone needs it, 800-273-8255, is the number for the suicide hotline in the united states, available in spanish and english.<br/>suicidepreventionlifeline.org is the website.</p>
<p>If there is anyone who lives outside of the US, just click this<br/><a href="http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html">International Suicide Hotlines</a><br/>then search for your country</p>
<p>  <a href="https://www.pleaselive.org/hotlines/">Different Hotlines</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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